


The Baby and the accidental face reveal.

by Medlilove



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Yoda Acquisition, Din's cute face, Domestic Fluff, Families of Choice, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Love, ManDadlorian, Other, lost in thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27492211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medlilove/pseuds/Medlilove
Summary: It had been a long and grimey few days on Tatooine. Din finally takes a shower in the ships washroom, contemplates the length of his hair, his own existence and getting interrupted but a wandering baby.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 343





	The Baby and the accidental face reveal.

It had been a long and grimey few days on Tatooine. The Mandalorian was grateful to stumble his way back to his ship, baby in hand and a long few days worth of dust sand and grime all over them both, and most unwelcomingly, on the inside of his helmet.

After offloading all the scrap and bits of equipment he had dragged back with him, he walked down the corridor to the wash room and used a linen cloth and warm water to remove as much of the dirt off of the baby’s face. He could see the baby struggling to keep its eyes open and before Din had even decided to stop and place him in his little hammock the baby was gently snoring, fast asleep.

He walked down the small corridor and activated the door to their small sleeping area. The baby sighed and turned over in his sleep as he was placed in his tiny bed. Din watched him for a moment, his eyes burned with the need for rest. He was tempted to immediately lie down and join the baby, he was sure he could fall asleep in seconds. 

However, aside from his tired eyes, he could feel the dirt and sand and the layers of filth that seemed to penetrate his armor and sit on his skin. 

_ The baby is fast asleep, and I am covered in sand, if I don’t shower now I WILL regret it. _

Din closed the shutter to his bed, and quietly removed his bracers and chest plate, leaving them against a bench. He could hear the whistling wind embedded with even more sand gently passing over his metal ship from the plains outside. Causing the metal to wane and groan ever so slightly.

He was glad to be inside a shelter right now, and decided he was going to make the most of it. 

Returning to the tiny washroom, he slid the door closed and activated the old and rusty shower head. He emptied the metal sink of the small pool of warm water he was just using and dumped his underlayers on top of it.

Din, being fairly neurotic when it came to his ship, usually would be pretty deliberate with keeping washes short and at a level temperature, to save on fuel of course. However, after the last few days… he found himself giving in, just this once. He wanted to take advantage of this small moment of tranquility before tomorrow came and the journey continued.

Feeling the filth of the last few days washed away, as the stream rose in the space as the hot water worked its magic, he couldn't help feel thankful for this wonderful moment of mundanity. 

He spent a little longer than he usually would in the shower, but then again, he was exhausted. Allowing himself to have a rare proper wash felt very welcome. 

He stepped out of the shower and ran a hand through his wet hair, dried off and threw on his underlayers.

With his helmet still removed and placed on a shelf in the tiny washroom he was in, Din took his bare hand and wiped the steam from the chipped mirror and took a rare look at himself.

_ Well, that’s my face, same as always.  _

He pauses for a moment. He doesn’t see it all too often, his face. He supposed he looked alright. As he aged over the years it had taken him a while to get used to someone resembling his father looking back at him, but he could take a good look now without feeling too stomach lurchingly strange. 

Right now he just saw himself. Looking a little pale and very tired, but clean. A good rest and a hot meal should help those bags under his dark eyes. As he uncharacteristically stared at himself, he noticed his dark hair had grown out again, and he hadn’t shaved in a while.... He surveyed himself further, tilting his chin back and forth. 

Din supposed it was time for a trim, who knows when he will next have time to do it. 

Opening a few drawers around the sink, not remembering where anything in the washroom really was, Finally he retrieved a small pair of scissors, tested them a few times in his hands, then got to work. 

He took it slow and steady for the most part, beginning with his mop of hair. Snipping off bits here and there, with no real plan. This was more for his own convenience after all, it's not like anyone was going to see. 

His mind began to wander as he worked away. How strangely inconvenient it was for human hair to grow so quickly, He couldn't imagine having to deal with fighting, without a helmet, with constantly growing hair. Such a draw back really.

_ Snip snip _

Strands of shiny black hair began to fall into the basin, the sound of the scissors reverberated around the small washroom. All was quiet except for a distant humming of the ship's generators and the dripping pipe above him. The steam was beginning to clear, leaving a layer of condensation against the riveted walls.

Still thinking about the pain of human hair, his mind drifted to Cara. Her hair was always loose around her shoulders, yet she fought without containing it in any way, how could she stand it? That aspect of her alone was pretty impressive. 

Din hoped to see her again soon, not many people out there who he could trust right now.

He wavered for a moment before cutting a bit too much off of a length of hair he was holding out for measurement. Leaving a bit of a strange gap. 

_ Oh well. _

He tilted his head down to clip at the sides. Seeing more of his black hair begin to collect in the small metal sink below him was somewhat satisfying.

_ -Drip drip _

He should shave it really, shave it all off every few months. Greef’s hair is always short and neat and out the way like that. But he never got round to getting hold of a razor for that purpose. In regards for his own self care, he never really put it to the front of his mind. He genuinely just forgets to look into it and before he knows it it’s time to get the clippers again. Another reminder that he should look after himself more, another reminder that he will rapidly forget.

_ -Snip drip _

He twisted his neck to try and see the back. No grey hairs as of yet, as far as he could tell. He was a little impressed with himself. No idea how he’d managed to pull that off _. _ He thought briefly of his father, who had speckles of grey in his black hair when Din was a child. 

_ I suppose his life was a lot more stressful, turned him grey,  _ Din thought to himself.

_ Though then again....this last year has been something else...I’d be surprised if I have any hair left after this is all over. _

His hair seemed short enough now. He’d managed to take a few inches off without it being a complete disaster. It felt better on his head at least. Should last him a while before it becomes a pain again. 

Din then put a hand on his chin and assessed the beard. It wasn’t altogether out of control so to speak, it never really gets like that, but it has been bothering him lately, spending so much time on hot dry planets like this Tatooine, it was too much for him under his helmet.

_ At least if it’s short it won’t collect any more sand. _

He carefully began to trim away, taking a moment here and there to at least make it even. For his own sake.

_ Why do human males have hair here but not others like females? It’s such a pain _ . 

He was still for a second, looked at the small scissors in his hands and thought of his friend Kuili. His facial hair was strange indeed, but impressive. It fit his face well. Din glanced up at himself in the mirror and imagined for a moment what he would look like with facial hair like Kuili’s. He couldn't help but let out a small snort and chuckle. Seeing his reflection then felt strange. 

For just an instant he wasn't sure if he recognised himself. 

Din shook his head and carried on. He wondered about those species that don’t have any hair at all, mostly amphibian peoples. 

...Like the Baby? 

Din took his left hand and scratched the back of his head to let loose a few stray hairs.

The Baby...He does have a bit of fuzz, but will it grow? Would he ever change much from what he looks like now?

He put the clippers down and assessed the aftermath. His hair was definitely shorter, his beard much neater...a bit wonky and not exactly presentable to the wider public, but he felt a lot better.

As the Mercenary admired his own work, leaning in with both hands on the cold basin of the sink, he found his attention again wandering to that of the Baby. 

_ Will he have hair? Will he grow? Learn to speak? _

_ Will I be alive for any of that, will the Baby even remember me during its long life? _

A small sharp jolt of anxiety rose in his chest. He took a breath, swallowed and then blinked out of his own thoughts. Stay in the present. 

_ Just focus on the days ahead... _

He ran a hand through his new head of short and choppy hair and started to clean up, his hair seemed to have missed a lot of the basin, did he really cut off all that? How long had he been in here with his own thoughts? He had completely lost track of time.

The wind outside on the sand planes seems to have subdued, no longer could Din hear it rushing against the outer plates of his ship. 

_ It’s fine.  _

He’ll go get the Baby from his hammock right after this, take them out of the ship for a while. Run some errands and get some ingredients for a hot dinner in the small market place in the town just north of where they are anchored.

_ Yes, that’ll be a nice change from the ship before the sun rises and it becomes far too hot and windy. _

As the thought of heading out with that squeaking little child passed over him, Din smiled to himself again as he continued to clean. 

Going to a new place, even just a simple market, was something the Baby always found fascinating, he would reach out and gurgle and squeak and the most mundane of things. He could almost hear that squeaking now. 

As he crouched down to sweep the loose hairs from the metal floor of the privy he heard it again. 

_ Wait… _

Din froze. 

_ Ok _

_ I definitely heard him! _

Din was still crouched down, facing the sink and cabinets, processing his current situation. 

He was half dressed. With no armor on. His helmet was on a shelf nearby. His face was completely exposed to anyone who may pitter patter their tiny feet down the ships quarters and quietly open the door to the washroom in search of its familiar, helmet wearing, armor clad guardian. 

_ Shit shit shit _

A scramble of emotions burned through him in a single moment. In a sudden rush he felt terrified, felt his face go red, felt a shot of adrenaline too. There was something else there too, relief, _ exasperation _ ? There was a microscopic part of him that wanted to laugh too. Was he going mad?

Din took a quick breath and accepted his fate. 

Slowly slowly he turned his head around, still crouching down he shifted his body towards the door to the washroom. The Baby stood staring at him, with huge eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar.

Their dark eyes connected. All eyes wide.

The little one was perched by the sliding doors to the washroom, which he had somehow opened unnoticed while Din was lost in his thoughts.

Din gulped, held his breath. What should he say? _ “It’s okay” “it’s me?”  _

_?!? _

_ What had I done!  _

_ I took so long the Baby came to find me? _

_ How have I been so careless, does the Baby even recognise me? He’s probably horrified, the Baby is terrified. Oh my stars... _

His legs were cramping, not knowing what else to do and feeling peculiarly vulnerable, Din sat down on the metal grates, and waited. 

The Baby’s expression was hard to read. For a few seconds no one moved. Seconds that felt like hours to Din, who was simultaneously berating himself for every mistake he has ever made in his entire life while also trying (and probably failing) to remain relaxed in his body and face in an attempt to calm whatever situation was about to occur.

The Baby started to move. Shuffling his little feet forward, approaching the Mandalorian, all while not taking his big eyes off Din’s own. 

He reached Din’s crossed legs, still staring at him with those penetrating eyes, not making a sound, just staring.

Instinctively, Din put his gloveless hand out for the Baby to grab. Tiny green fingers touched the skin of his palm. Then both hands pulled at his own….then a little wet mouth... After the Baby was satisfied assessing the new naked hand he continued forward. 

Squeaking, he raised his tiny arms in a gesture to be picked up.

Din did as requested, held the baby on his chest as he learned his back against the cold cabinets. Their faces level. 

“Hello” Din spoke with a lump in his throat, he blinked and waited.

The pipes above them slowly dripped away, further away, the hum of the ship's generator, and the gentle beeping of the cockpits automated scanner. The room itself was still damp and a little warm, but the cool draft from the outer corridor could be felt through the now open door.

Slowly, then all at once the Baby put it’s little hands all over Din’s bare face and began gurgling in a happy and excited way. Tapping at his mouth, beard and smacking his cheeks. Then lastly putting it’s little mouth on his face, and licking him, just to check.

  
  


The Mandalorian broke out in a relieved smile and laughed, which thrilled the infant more, who then began to squeak and chuckle with delight at this new discovery of a face that he continued to explore.

Din closed his eyes as the little green fingers gently passed over them.

“Careful. I need those,” Din said quietly. 

He could feel bits of sand and dirt on those fingers that he didn’t wash off earlier, nevertheless, Din found he didn’t mind. 

All of a sudden he felt very strange. 

As though on the floor of this tiny washroom, late in the night, on a beat up old ship in the middle of nowhere, on a hot dusty planet was the only place he’s ever been, Or would ever want to be. 

After a few minutes of prodding Din’s face, the Baby’s excitement had settled into a sleepy hug. Nuzzled in Din’s neck and one hand still up by his chin, gently cooing. Din closed his eyes and sat back for a minute.

He could feel the cold of the industrial cabinet against his back and the metal grates where he sat. The quiet humming of the ship's generator and the repeated dripping of a pipe above their heads. The heat from the shower was fading out and the cool air from the corridor could be felt coming into the space. The Baby lay on his chest, breathing calmly and he could feel little fingers gently touching the side of his chin, softly stroking what was left of his beard.

Perhaps the galaxy can just stay like this forever?

Din supposed it was only a matter of time of course, sharing his face with his clan of two. 

Though to be honest, he did imagine the moment he would take off his helmet to his new child would be a little more ceremonial. More of an actual  _ planned _ occasion. And not on his dingy washroom floor.

_ But then again with this one _ . he quietly rose to a standing position, shifting his weight so he had one hand free. _ Things never do go the way they are planned, this seemed fitting enough. _

He shook his head very slightly, overcome by those strangest of feelings.

The baby cooed in response.

_ This is the way. _

**Author's Note:**

> How does Din have time to do anything that involves revealing his face, without the Baby seeing said face? They are always together?


End file.
